Thank you VH1.

Madonna used to be so fucking hot, in the 80s.

Laminate hot.

Rawr.

Meh.

Well, congratulations me. I seem to have broken my camera again. That's the second one. This time there's a huge crack across the screen... I had it in my bag and the case really isn't very firm. I can still take photos, I just don't have a view finder and don't know what they look like until I upload them. Arse.

I spent a fuckload this month, buying the bike I haven't ridden yet and a ticket to a convention I swore I wasn't going to. But I really like having a digital camera, even if it's only a relatively low quality one, so I'm going to have to buy another. But not until I get paid. I've just spent a huge, huge amount this year and I need to stop and start saving.

All of the stuff I want to do with my future - short term and long term - requires money and I need to stop wasting it.

I also need to start going to the gym again. I haven't been since before I started doing The Country Wife, because there just wasn't time, but now that's over I need to work on getting to a sensible level of fitness.

Gah.

It's just been a really weird day. I've been very maudlin, very wistful and very... I dunno, lonely? I don't think that's entirely the right word, but you get the general gist. I was sitting on the back step with my laptop, earlier and I looked up to see a huge, huge bird - looked like some sort of bird of prey - circling over head. I watched it for ages, just going round and round as if it were in a thermal. Except I live practically in the middle of London and there were no thermals today, because it was too cold.

I have no idea what it was or what it means.

There's also other stuff that only one or two people know about which is making me twitchy. I'm not sure of the situation, not sure if I'm being paranoid. I know I'm terribly astute when it comes to picking up that something is wrong, so I don't know what to think.

And I haven't seen the Pretteh in ages.

So now I'm listening to my Bath Music mix, which is all the wistful, self-obsessed stuff that is emo by definition but not genre. I've hardly eaten all weekend. Not for any particular reason, but just because I keep failing to get around to it. I could really do with a huge farmhouse pizza, at the moment, but given several of the factors mentioned already, that just isn't going to happen.

Meh.

I hate Sundays.

Pimpage.

So, I redesigned my journal to match my MySpacks - yes, it's very autumnal and yes, those are maple leaves.

What else did you expect? I have a tattoo!

I just wish I knew how to make it more transparent without making the text so transparent. *pout*